


Take My Breath Away

by lettersandsodas



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersandsodas/pseuds/lettersandsodas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ridiculous porn interlude set post-"We'd Like the Thank the Academy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [porn battle](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/472424.html). The prompt was Take My Breath Away, Juliet/Shawn, Top Gun roleplay, teacher/student. The prompt was already [filled admirably](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/472424.html?thread=29468008#t29468008) by [](http://kindness-says.livejournal.com/profile)[**kindness_says**](http://kindness-says.livejournal.com/), but I'd already started writing this and thought I'd finish. Consider it a tribute.

  
  
  
  
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Shawn rings the doorbell and waits. He doesn't really have to. He could easily get the key, because, come on, it doesn't take a psychic to see that one of the “rocks” by Juliet's front door isn't quite like the others. But she almost shot him last time he did that and, besides, he doesn't want to bust in on her before she's ready. Not tonight.

She takes awhile to answer, and he's just about to chide her for it when he notices the jacket. Oh man, the jacket. The leather is so supple that it hugs her shoulders in a really nice way, but, more importantly: she's wearing it open. With nothing underneath. He's never been more grateful for his photographic memory than he is right now.

Well, except maybe during that case with that stack of bank slips and all those numbers. It was useful then.

But that's neither here nor there.

“My eyes are up here,” Juliet says with a smirk and then steps aside to let him in.

“Right. Of course,” he agrees, but he doesn't look up as he reaches out to stroke the lapel of the jacket.

“Uh-uh.” She slaps his hand away. “Not yet.”

She points to the table, where there's a flight jacket and a glasses case waiting. He opens the case to find a sweet new pair of a mirrored aviators.

“Put them on,” she tells him, and he's pretty sure he's found the perfect woman. Seriously, he could not be more in like with her.

“Ok,” he says when he's finished slipping on the jacket, which fits perfectly despite the difficulties he's had in the past with these kind of things pulling in the shoulders. “I have a serious question for you, and I really need you to think carefully before you answer. On a scale of one to ten, how badass do I look right now?”

She rolls her eyes, but she's smiling as she moves closer and runs her hand over his chest. “A little full of yourself, aren't you, Cadet?”

“Woah, woah. Maverick was a Lieutenant. If we're going to do this, Jules, we need to be accurate.”

She frowns. “Yeah, there's no way I'm calling you that.”

“Ok. How about just 'Maverick' then?”

“Still no,” she tells him as she runs her hands down his back. “Though it is pretty appropriate considering your behavior in my class. And that little stunt you pulled with Gus and Nick today. You could have been killed.”

“Can we skip to the part where you confess that you see the genius of my methods and only criticize me because you don't want anyone to discover that you're secretly very, very attracted to me?” he asks as he traces a finger down the seam of her jacket, just barely grazing the skin underneath.

“Shawn?” she murmurs, so close that he can feel the heat of the word against his lips.

“Yes?” he replies. He feel her sigh and shiver when his fingertips run up along her side.

“There's no way I'm saying that either.”

He sighs and pulls back slightly. “Ok, fine,” he concedes, “But can we at least play 'Take My Breath Away' in the background while we do it?”

Juliet rolls her eyes and leans in for what he can only describe as a disappointingly brief kiss. “You're obsessed, you know that?”

“Says the woman who requested the aviators in spite of the fact that we are neither outside on a sunny day nor aviating.” He hesitates as he undoes her her slacks, frowning. “Aviating? Aviatoring? Anyway, what can I say? K. McGillis just does it for me. Always has, always will.”

Juliet quirks an eyebrow as she reaches down to unbutton his jeans. “You know she's a lesbian, right?”

“What? Really?” He lets her slide his pants down, then kicks them off. “Huh. I suppose that would explain the odd lack of chemistry with Cruise. I always assumed it was him.”

“Mm,” Juliet agrees as she steps out of her slacks. “Could be both.”

Shawn shakes his head. “A lesbian. Wow. Well, at least I still have M.B.B.”

“What?”

“Not what, who. M.B.B.,” he corrects. “Meredith Baxter-Birney? Come on, Jules.”

“You don't keep up with the news much, do you?”

“Nonsense. I stole Gus's paper just this morning. I'm strangely riveted by the latest Mark Trail story arch,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Not the least of which because you're still referring to her as Meredith Baxter-Birney. But never mind. Should I keep the jacket on?”

“Of course,” he tells her, and casts another glance down at her chest. “After all, you're looking a little cold. Or maybe it's just me.”

She smacks him, but smiles anyway, and he runs his hands along her belly until he reaches her breasts. He cups them, running his thumbs along her nipples, and she sighs and arches into the touch.

“Better?” he murmurs.

“Very,” she breathes.

He leans down to take a nipple into his mouth, bracing one hand on the table while the other reaches down to tug as his boxers (they're He-Man, and so he figures he should probably get them off before Juliet notices. He suspects that Skeletor's face makes his butt look big).

“Ah, ah,” she says, and steps back. “Not so fast, Cadet. You have a lot to make up for.”

“Is that so?” he asks, and he's a little embarrassed by how gravely it comes out because he thinks its very possible that being called 'cadet' shouldn't do as much for him as it does.

“Uh-huh. Leave the shorts on,” she tells him, and places a firm hand on his shoulder. “On your knees, Cadet.”

Did he say the being called 'cadet' did it for him? Because he probably meant that it made him into a thirteen-year-old boy suddenly incapable of functioning under the weight of the hormones surging through his tiny man-brain.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says, and hooks his fingers under the elastic of her panties. She braces a hand on his head as she steps out of them, which normally he'd be a little miffed about that because, hello, it takes time to get hair that perfect day in and day out. But he figures he'll allow it in this case because all he wants to do is--

“Shawn,” Juliet interrupts as he's about to lean in.

“Yes?” he says, and almost squirms all over again when he looks up because there's that jacket again and the view is just...

She smiles down at him as she hits a button on the stereo remote she grabbed from the table. “Lose the aviators.”

He does, then gets to work on his penance to the faint strains of Berlin.


End file.
